


We move lightly

by TheGirlNoOneKnows5



Series: Ambience [2]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Dreams and Nightmares, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Guitarist Even, Healing, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse, Pianist Isak, Roommates, mental health, music school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-07-29 22:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16273934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlNoOneKnows5/pseuds/TheGirlNoOneKnows5
Summary: "That's bullshit. You're a genius."Only Isak would react like a child to the exact kind of empty praise he’s heard a thousand times over. Isak knows he’s brilliant. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him. But, Even Bech Næsheim saying it… that's a whole other thing in itself.-Isak and Even are roommates attending the Norwegian Academy of Music. Isak isolates himself from everything and everyone until his sleepless nights are no longer spent alone.Or; Isak’s experience during my Reverse Bang fic, Evoke





	1. Cold days, long nights

**Author's Note:**

> In honour of those who turned their weaknesses into strengths; F, J. 
> 
> We’re back! I considered writing this for a while and finally caved in (while avoiding my next big bang fic oops). You don’t necessarily need to read Evoke first, but it does give this version of Even context. They'll both make up the Ambience series. Anyhay, there was a lot going on with Isak that Even didn't know about, so we're going to explore that here.  
> Some scenes may look familiar to you ;) 
> 
> -This chapter features a panic attack and some homophobic language-

 

A deep breath. Closed eyes. Trembling hands. Hammering heart.

Isak moved his fingers across the keys. Music echoed off the walls. Vibrated through his chest. Took over his consciousness. He loved this. The way he could exist outside of reality, if only for a while. For a few moments, he was free.

There was something otherworldly about playing in Lindeman Hall. A feeling of safety that allowed him peaceful dissociation. He breathed in the slightly musty smell of the piano. It tethered him to it, as if they were one entity. His fingers brought life to the keys, and the sound waves brought life to him. Everything else melted away.

It was easy to get lost in it. Let his passion take over. He finished his piece with an unplanned crescendo. The audience roared in the last ten seconds of his performance. The sound was washed out by the notes. It was a million miles away. Isak forced himself away from the piano. Kept his eyes closed until he was standing downstage. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of faces gaped at him. Isak hopelessly clung to the fading remnants of serenity. He gave the blurry faces a bow and walked off stage.

He was good. He was always good.

Isak took his time gathering his things. Anything he could do to prolong his peace. To delay the nauseating onslaught of sycophantic praise he knew was coming. He made his way to the doors with a resigned sigh. _Get it over with._

“There he iiiis,” Chris Berg sang.

The corner of Isak’s lips turned up involuntarily. He walked over to his friends, glad at least the first round admiration would come from them. “What’s up?”

“Fuck me,” Jonas said. He clapped Isak on the back. “You did it again.”

And so it began. “Whatever.”

“Whatever?” Mahdi scoffed. He’d over done it with the cologne. “You made the whole show! That’s why you got put last. To make all the rest of us look like talentless assholes,” he said as if his percussion piece hadn’t gotten a standing ovation, the prick.

“Shut up,” Isak laughed. “I’m not _that_ good.”

“That’s bullshit,” Even said. Isak hadn’t noticed him. “You’re a genius.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m possessed by Mozart’s ghost,” Isak joked.

“You are. You’re brilliant.”

Heat rose to his treacherous cheeks. Jonas’s smirk dashed all hopes Isak had of no one noticing. _Fucker._ Only Isak would react like a child to the exact kind of empty praise he’d heard a thousand times over. He knew he was a genius. He didn’t need anyone to tell him. But, when Even Bech Næsheim said it…  

“Dude!” Magnus interrupted that dangerous thought. He threw his arm around Isak and pulled him close. He should’ve worn cologne. “You dick! Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?”

_Because of this._

Isak pushed him away. “Is everyone done kissing my ass, or?”

“You’d love that,” said Magnus.

“So, where are we celebrating?” Mahdi asked.

“Chateau Neuf,” Jonas said. “Where else?”

 Chris threw a pointed finger into the air. “Everyone! To the bar!”

The group followed her, hollering and cheering on the way. Isak could really use a beer. Or six.

They quickly got separated, each person dashing off in different directions. Isak was left standing by the bar with Even. He had this funny look in his eyes, like a kid seeing Santa Claus. “Buy you a drink?” Even offered.

Isak gulped because he was twelve. “You don’t have to.”

Even shook his head with a fond smile. “I want to. Tuborg, yeah?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Even was the kind of guy who remembered his roommate’s favourite drink when he only mentioned it once. Isak was the kind who left dirty socks stuffed in between the couch cushions.

Even handed Isak his drink and took a sip out of his own. Isak watched the bob of his adam’s apple. His eyes trailed down Even’s long neck, across his chest, along his never-ending legs. Admired the way his jeans fit him just right. _Jesus fucking Christ._

“Isak!” someone called.

He snapped his head up to see Even smiling at him. _Shit._ While Isak would like to pretend Even hadn’t caught him checking him out, the knowing look on Even’s face said otherwise. _Shit._

“Isak!” Before Isak could react, a wild Eskild wrapped him in a bear hug. He didn’t seem to notice Isak’s jump, leaning his entire weight on him. “There you are! My little genius baby gay.”

Isak’s cheeks warmed. It was bad enough he called him that at work. Did he have to do it in front of Even, of all people? “Eskild,” he grunted, trying to wriggle out of his hold. “I can’t breathe.”

Eskild released him with a tisk. “This is how you treat your guru. After everything I’ve done for you.”

“You –”

“It’s good to see you again, Eskild,” Even interjected before Isak could say something he’d regret.

“It always is,” Eskild said with a wink. “You don’t mind if I whisk our baby away for a while? He’s got a lot of fans.”

_Fantastic._

“Be my guest.” Even gestured to the group of people staring at them intently from across the bar. It would be really wonderful if the ground collapsed and sucked Isak under. He tried to shoot Even a pleading look, praying he’d get him out of this and save the day.

Eskild dragged Isak away to his doom before Even caught on. “Have a lovely evening,” Eskild called over the incessant bar chatter. Even raised his beer in acknowledgment. He was too far away to see the desperation in Isak’s eyes. “Ugh, he’s gorgeous,” Eskild groaned. “Why don’t you… you know?”

“What?!”

“Pretty boys are your type, aren’t they? You really need some dick, Isak.”

“Shut up!”

“Rude.”

Truth be told, Eskild was so right, it hurt. Even _was_ hot. The gayest girl in the world could tell him that. And maybe just maybe Isak was a teensy little bit attracted to him. Even smiled and wished him a good morning everyday. Sometimes he made him breakfast or saved him dinner. He never complained about his dirty clothes all over the apartment. His eyes were sparkly and dreamy and right out of a cringey fanfiction written by a thirteen year old fujoshi.

That didn’t mean he actually wanted to – no way. They were good almost-friends and that suited Isak just fine.

“Isak!” a woman he didn’t recognise squealed. He barely heard her fawning admiration. Several other faces – some familiar, some new – gathered around him to gush over what an “artiste” he was. Where the fuck did his beer go? He lost Eskild in the growing crowd. Everyone was too close. He was too hot. This fucking bar was too loud.

He tried to smile and nod to appease the swarm of figures. Maybe they’d leave him alone soon if he gave them what they wanted. His phone buzzed in his pocket. A distraction! Excuse me,” he breathed, digging it out.

 

 

> **Pappa:** Good job on your performance tonight. I tried to find you after, but you were gone before I could get to you. I’m proud of you. We should have dinner soon.

 

Something ugly clenched Isak’s gut. Like a fist twisting and squeezing all feeling out of him. He wanted to scream. His throat tightened up.

“Another fan?” one guy joked. The others laughed like the kiss-asses they were. Isak had forgotten they were there. Someone was punishing him. Maybe he’d died and gone to his personal hell. Whatever was happening, he was one step away from shoving everyone into the goddamn walls.

“Excuse me,” Even said. Isak had never been more grateful to see anyone in his life. Even weaved through the crowd of assholes to get closer. “We’ve got an early morning, remember? You promised to drive me to the dentist.”

Sweet, sweet relief! Even was his messiah! “Yes,” he said quickly. “We should go.” He bid the cronies a fake farewell. The sentiment was returned much more eagerly. Their voices overlapped in a sickening song. He couldn’t get away soon enough.    

Even grabbed Isak’s arm. Panic shot through him and vanished in a flash. When the haze cleared from Isak’s mind, he took in Even’s shocked expression. He’d let go of Isak’s arm. Unlike Eskild, Even noticed his jump. Cruel embarrassment quickly replaced the lingering tendrils of panic.

“Sorry,” Even said. He bit his lip with guilt. “You alright?”

Isak blinked, his eyes wide. “Uh…” he forced a laugh from his dry throat, ignoring the pain. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He _was_ fine. Everything was perfect.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Even was clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push any further. Isak barely would’ve heard him anyway.

The night was quiet, but Isak’s head was so fucking _loud_. A chorus of ‘pathetic’, ‘pussy’, ‘weak’, ‘faggot’, ‘grow up’, played over and over. He saw his father laughing at him. His mother turning away from him. Aksel looming over him. Isak squeezed his eyes shut. _Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it_

“ _Finally_ ,” Even groaned when he put the key in the lock. Isak blinked at the door. He had been walking on autopilot. Even looked back at him when they stepped inside. “Lucky we didn’t invite anyone back.”

“Mm.”

 _Pathetic. Pussy. Weak. Faggot. Grow up._  

“I’ve been living with you for how long and I’ve only just found out you’re a genius,” Even said. In an instant, he drowned out all the voices.

He actually managed a smile out of Isak. “This again.”

“Seriously,” Even insisted. “What is it? Three months? How have I missed something so grand, so obvious?”

“You’re annoying.” Isak sat on the couch to pull off his shoes. He sighed in relief once his feet were free.

Even plonked down next to him. “We’ve got to get you a keyboard.”

“What?”

“So you can practise here! I can listen to your genius from the comfort of our own shithole apartment.”

That was the worst idea anyone had ever had ever. Isak rolled his eyes to show his outrage and got to his feet. “So you can carry on like this every day? No thanks.” He shuffled down the hall to bed.

“Oh, but, Isak! I’m your biggest fan!” Even called after him.

Isak blew a raspberry in response. Even’s laugh sent tiny little flutters to his tummy. It was a prettier sound than any song. _Stop it._ That was not allowed.

 

*********

 

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Isak watched 02:04 become 02:05.

Listened to the ticking.

Tick.

Tick.

Fucking tick.

Isak sat up and ripped the clock off his bedside table. He pulled at the cord until it came out of the wall socket. “Fuck it,” he muttered. The ticking was closer. Hammering in his head. Pulling the plug didn’t stop it. Isak looked around his room frantically for a place to put the devil clock. His backpack? His closet? His desk! Brilliant! He lunged for it and tripped over his sneakers. “Fuck!” The top of his left foot stung. His toes ached. “Fuuuck.” Thankfully, no one was around to see him hopping from foot to foot.

The burning faded. He recovered enough to plant both feet firmly on the ground. He sniffed grumpily and narrowed his eyes at his dangerous sneakers. _Fucking safety hazard._ Tick. Tick. Tick. “Argh!” Isak pulled the top desk drawer open and shoved the clock in. He twisted his hand, digging it in deep.

Tick. Tick. Tick. “Oh, for fuck sake!” Isak pushed the other stuff around in the drawer, burying the clock under papers and pens and that ugly watch Magnus got him for his birthday one year. He pushed the drawer shut and listened.

Nothing.

His shoulders relaxed. Fatigue took its toll. Maybe he’d _finally_ be able to get some sleep. Isak stomped to bed, tripping over the very same sneakers. “Fuck!” he hissed. He hobbled the rest of the way and fell on the mattress to sulk. Everything in the whole world was out to get him.

He stared at the ceiling for a while. He was so fucking exhausted. His body was crying out for reprieve. ‘Sleep!’ it urged. Isak desperately wanted to obey. If only he could calm down. Some song was stuck in his head. He couldn’t remember where he’d heard it. The night air tickled his arms, raising goose bumps on his skin. Isak shivered.

His duvet was blue. Blue was a calming colour. At least, that’s what Eskild said when he gave it to him last year. He pulled it closer and wrapped himself up tightly. The shivering eventually subsided. The song in his head did not. Where the hell did he know it from? The pleasing sounds were becoming insufferable. Angelic strums transformed into distorted noise.

“Fuck.”

Isak kicked his duvet off. Everything was buzzing. Saying ‘too much’, ‘too loud’. Isak whined and rubbed his eyes. He could always jerk off. That usually left him somewhat tired out. He shoved his hand down his boxers and wrapped it around his dick. Gave it a few unenthusiastic tugs. It felt wrong tonight. Gross. Dirty. Apparently his dick agreed. It didn’t respond to any of Isak’s usual tricks.

Resigned to yet another sleepless night, he pulled his hand out. He sighed and rubbed his eyes again. How long had he been doing this?

He grabbed his phone off the bedside. 03:01. _Amazing._ Reddit seemed his only option for the night. He could read weird threads until it was late enough to emerge from his room. Unlocking his phone was a mistake.

Pappa’s message was left open. Isak stared at it, his throat drying again.

_Why why why why why_

An agonised yell snapped Isak out of it. He jumped up, nearly falling over himself. It had to be Even. He darted across the hall into Even’s room. He was alone, thank fuck. No murderers or burglars. That didn’t make this sight any less painful. Even was writhing as if he was in physical pain. He screamed and cried while he thrashed around on the bed.

Isak climbed in next to him and grabbed both shoulders gently. Even hit him in the chest a few times, struggling away. Isak firmed up his hold. “Even,” he said. “Even. It’s alright. Come on. Even.”

His eyes shot open, puffy and red. Isak gave him a soft smile he hoped was kind. Even deserved all the kindness life could grant. “Even.”

Even’s startled face crumbled. He clutched Isak’s crappy Sonic the Hedgehog t-shirt and sobbed out his pain. Nightmares were always ugly. This was something else. Something had happened. Maybe he was like Isak. He gathered Even in his arms, bracing his body on his knees. “Shh,” he soothed while he rocked him. “It was a dream.”

Isak let Even cry against him. He smoothed his hair, whispering, “It’s alright. You’re safe. Everything’s okay.”

Isak was used to dealing with pain alone. Preferred it that way. He didn’t always. As a child, he savoured every cuddle from mamma. Every high five from pappa. Sometimes mamma would wake him in the night, thinking she’d heard him crying. He hadn’t been, but she was so kind in those moments and Isak was selfish, so he took it. Made up some story about a mean kid at school so mamma would hold him like this. Smooth his hair like this. Rock him just like this. Isak greedily lapped up any small dose of affection until there was none left to give. Until pappa told him it was time to grow up. Until mamma spent more and more time locked in her room. Until he was all alone.

He didn’t want Even to feel alone. Instead, he could give him what he craved in the deepest, most selfish, childish part of himself. Seeing Even this small, this helpless sent pangs to his own heart.

The sobs stopped. Even stared up at him, sniffling loudly. Strangely, it was kind of cute. Isak grabbed the t-shirt sitting on Even’s pillow and held it to his face. “Here.” Even took it and wiped his red nose.

“I’m gross,” he said weakly.

“No you’re not,” Isak chuckled.

Even gave him a firm nod and tossed the t-shirt to the floor. “I’m gross.”  

He did not want to know the true meaning of gross. “You want gross?” He carefully set Even on the bed and shuffled back so they were lying across from each other. “I’ve only changed my bed sheets once since I’ve lived here.”

Even snorted. “I’ve gone _long_ periods of time without doing laundry.” 

“We’re both gross, then.”

Even hummed his agreement. They fell intimately silent. The world ended at the edge of Even’s bed. Just the two of them. Even’s heaviness radiated over to Isak. A wounded ambience surrounded them. Even was calm now, though he’d clearly suffered something.  

He pushed his face into his pillow and blew out a heavy breath. _Cute._ Isak couldn’t stop his chuckle at the action. Even stared at him for a while. Isak could tell his mind was whirling. Funny this was the first time that night Isak’s mind was clear.

“Have you ever lost someone?” Even asked, breaking the quiet. It startled Isak a little. Even looked startled himself, like he hadn’t meant to ask.  

What a question it was. It depended on what exactly he meant. There were many ways to lose someone. Death, of course. A final loss, like his grandparents. Or, simply losing touch. That was a different hurt. The other person was still out there, living their life. Forgetting all about him. In that sense, Isak had experienced many losses. Pappa. Mamma. His friends, for a while. Fucking Aksel.

“In a way.”

Even didn’t respond. Isak didn’t push. He understood wanting to leave something alone. To pretend it wasn’t there.

He needed a distraction. “Have you heard the rumours about my rapping?”

Even raised his brows in amusement. “I have, actually. Give me a sample?”

“Are you sure you can handle it? I really bring the fire.”

“Bring it on.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Isak pushed himself up to a seated position. He cleared his throat, preparing for greatness. “E-box, give me a beat!”

Even humoured him, grunting and spitting and making a fool of himself.

Isak bopped his head, struggling to maintain his serious expression. Rap was serious business. “Mm, yeah. Fuck the police.”

Fortunately, the silly grunting stopped. Even burst into laughter. Isak was so glad to hear it, he wasn’t in the least bit offended. Anything to see that smile again.

“So?” Isak said expectantly. “Did I blow your mind?”  

Even gave him a serious nod. Rap was serious business. “Bach meets Nas.”

“Nas?”

“You’re kidding? You haven’t heard of Nas?”

“I’ve heard of him!” Isak scoffed. The suggestion he didn’t know everything in the universe was incomprehensible. “Naaas.”

“A musical genius and you haven’t heard of Nas.” Even shook his head in disappointment. _Little shit._

“Shut up,” Isak laughed.

Even laughed with him. It was weak, but it was there. The patchiness on his skin faded to his usual pale complexion. His tears were dry on his cheeks. His nose was pink and runny. All this, and he was still pretty.

“We’ve never done this,” Even said.

“Rapped to shitty beat boxing?”

“How dare you. I was great.”

“I’ll let you believe that.”

Even gave him a fake pout. “Say I was great.”

“Never.”

“Say it!” Even shifted closer. Isak felt his warm breath on his face. His stomach flipped stupidly.

He bit back a smile. “No.”

Even poked his sides. “Say iiiit.”

“Piss off!” Isak screeched. He squirmed away from Even’s cold fingers. His own body betrayed him, shaking with hysterical laughter. “Ev – ha – en – sto – ha! Even! Stop it!”

Even relented and raised his hands. “Alright.”

Isak wacked his chest. “Jerk.”

“I _am_ great, though.”

“Ugh!”

 

*********

 

Isak woke in an unfamiliar room. “What the-” He sat up in panic. The walls were covered in nerdy posters and cute little sketches. A few memes were stuck to the closet door. Isak’s eyes landed on a very familiar guitar in its stand. _Even._

Isak sank back in bed, relief instantly soothing him. The night returned to him while he lay there. Suck ups and ticking and fucking sneakers. Nightmares and crying and Even.

He reached across the bed to find empty space. It was still warm. Isak couldn’t remember falling asleep. They’d talked for a while longer, arguing over whether Brian May or Chuck Berry was a better guitarist. They eventually came to a compromise; May, based on technique, Berry, based on groove.

“Genius is genius”, Even had said.

“Depends on how you use it,” Isak said back.

There was movement from the kitchen. Isak’s stomach flipped again. What was he supposed to say? Were things going to be different now? Was that a bad thing?

He supposed he’d have to go say good morning at some point. He would in a minute. Or five. It wasn’t like he was hiding. This was his apartment, too. Even didn’t seem to mind leaving Isak alone in his room. He was just hanging out in his sort-of-friend’s really comfortable bed. Not hiding at all.

Ten minutes was probably too long.

Isak forced himself up. A few deep breaths by the door. Sleepy smile in place. He wandered down the hall to their little table without a word. The coolness of his chair sent an uncomfortable shiver up his spine. That was the price of cheapness.

“Want anything?”

“Coffee would be good.” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He stilled, realising they’d just exchanged their morning words. No ‘hello’, or ‘about last night’. Simple, mundane morning talk. He relaxed against the cheap plastic. Nothing had to change.

Even brought him a large mug of black coffee. They both looked like they were in dire need of caffeine. This, or a twelve hour power nap, but coffee was more practical. Isak shuddered after his first sip. It was awful. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to drink every last drop.

Together they sat at their little table, gulping down Even’s shitty “world famous tar”. A rather nice way to begin his day, Isak decided.

Even’s fingers were white around his mug. He bounced his knee under the table. Isak could almost hear his heart hammering. He knew what this was. He waited for Even to calm down before he said anything. Whenever Even was ready.

He spoke first. “Um. Thanks for… you know.”       

It warmed Isak’s chest faster than the bitter tar in his mouth. Thanking him for something so simple while it looked like the anxiety was about make him explode. Isak tried to speak and choked on his mouthful. Even was kind enough not to laugh at him. He got it down in one painful gulp and disguised his discomfort with a small smile.

All Even needed was for it to be okay. To know it wasn’t a big deal. “Don’t worry about it.”

Even puffed out a relieved breath. Isak just caught it in the silence. A soothing sound. One of safety. Of peace.

Peace was not a luxury Isak was allowed. Not without a piano.

 

*********

 

The day was clear. Yet something felt off.

Secrets in the wind mismatched the spring sun.

Isak didn’t know why. No birthdays, no anniversaries. This day was never significant to him. There was no reason for it to be an ugly day. Somehow, it was.

Perhaps it was the smell of the dying dryas flowers along the side walk. It was a stupid place to plant them; they were destined to die quickly. Jonas had mentioned it on their way to his place last week. Got all indignant and quoted some pretentious poet. Something like, “why plant a seed if you’re not going to bother nurturing it?” Even had pointed out that was about relationships, but Jonas believed his point still stood.

Isak of course, had no idea what they were on about. Figured he needed simpler friends. Today, Jonas was right. The dryas wilted away sadly, dull and forgotten. Some were smushed into the pavement. Whoever planted them had set them up to fail and left them alone.

Was that why the day was ugly?

The world lived on regardless.

 

*********

 

People. That was why the day was ugly. Shitty, rude, selfish people.

Isak booked that practise room days ago. Who the fuck did this Julian Dahl think he was erasing his name and writing over it? Isak spent forty minutes walking around campus, looking for a vacant room. A time he could slot in. Anything.  

He passed a few teachers who gave him their hearty congratulations for last night’s performance. Isak was sure his forced smile came out as a grimace if the strange looks he got was anything to go by. _Who gives a shit_

Isak’s mind burned. Heat rose off his skin. He blew heavy breaths out his nose. Ms. Viera asked him if he was unwell. Why the fuck would he be?

Isak needed to play. Especially on ugly days.

His skin itched. Legs shook. Eyes twitched. Sweat dampened his brow. His face was pale and gaunt from a night of barely any sleep. He probably looked like a heroin addict going through withdrawals.

He tugged at his hair as his chest heaved. People were staring at him. Everyone was staring. What were they looking for? What did they see? Did they know?

Someone was calling his name. Someone was touching him. He couldn’t tell. Why were people staring?

“Isak, hey,” Jonas said, his voice firm and calm. “Isak. I’ve got you.”

Isak turned to him, eyes wide. How long had he been calling? His heart thumped harder, making it difficult to breathe. “I – I can’t,” he choked out, gesturing at his throat. “I can’t.”

“Okay.” He was so fucking calm. Isak silently cursed his weakness. Jonas put a gentle hand on his back. “It’s okay.” Isak let himself be led somewhere. Jonas always knew what to do.

They ended up outside in the clear air. Isak tried to suck in a deep breath from his nose, but it got stuck in his throat. He coughed and panted while his vision went white. He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die.

Two warm hands rubbed his back. He chased the sensation, letting it tie him to the earth. The ground beneath him. He was standing. He could see. He was okay.

He focused on that until Jonas’s voice became clearer. “It’s okay, Isak,” he was saying. “Take your time.”

Isak nodded with a heavy gulp. He could do this. Jonas was here. He could do this.

Each breath was slower and deeper than the last. Jonas rubbed his back while he talked him through it. “That’s it.”

Several minutes of this, and he was breathing fine. His heart was still slowing. It ached in his chest. “Fuck,” Isak coughed.

“You’re okay.”

He was. He was okay.

“Fuck.”

Jonas smiled at him. “Better?”

“Mostly,” Isak said. “Oh, shit.”

The realisation of what he’d just done hit him hard. He was weak. Pathetic.

“What is up!” Mahdi gave them both a slap on the back. The coughing resumed.

“Dude!” Jonas scolded.

“What?”

“Isak’s coming down from a panic attack.”

“Shit.”

Isak waved his hands and shook his head. “No, no. I’m fine.” His voice was rough like he’d been screaming. The thought made his heart stop. “Fuck, I didn’t scream, or anything, did I?”

“No, man,” Jonas assured. “You were fine. Just some trouble breathing.”

It did nothing to dissuade the voices. _Weak. Faggot._

Mahdi dug around his backpack for something. He pulled out a mostly full water bottle. “Here.”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

Mahdi gave him a look that reminded him of the time his mother scolded him for saying his aunt’s skirt was ugly. He still maintained he was right. The look; so familiar, even on a different face. Isak rolled his eyes and took the bottle.

“Thank you.”

Mahdi touched his fist to Isak’s shoulder. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

They watched Isak take some sips from the bottle. It was like someone babysitting their elderly grandfather. “I’m fine. Relax.”

Jonas furrowed his brows in concern. “Do you want to tell me what brought that on?”

“Not really, no.” Jonas and Mahdi shared a look. Isak groaned. He was not a fucking child. “I’m okay now, seriously. It was just stress.”

“Alright.” Mahdi held his hands up in surrender.

“Just… You know we’re here if you want to talk,” Jonas said.

 _Not gonna happen._ “Yeah,” Isak lied, forcing a small smile. It was the best he could do. “Of course.”

“Man, you’ll never believe what fucking Dahl did,” Mahdi said. The heaviness on Isak’s chest lifted slightly, grateful for the subject change. “Stole a first year’s flute and hid it somewhere on campus. What a dick.”

Something clicked. _Right._ “Hang on. Dahl as in Julian Dahl?”

“You know him?”

“I’m gonna fucking jump him,” Isak said decidedly. 

“What the fuck, man, do you know the first year?”

“I don’t give a shit about that. He’s just a fucking asshole.”

“An asshole with loaded parents,” Jonas added.

Now he was even more of a dick. A spoiled rich kid who didn’t understand the world did not belong to him. People were not things for him to do with as he pleased. Other people’s things were not his for the taking. Booked practise rooms were not fair fucking game!

“What the fuck,” Jonas laughed in a high pitched voice Isak used to find cute. “Who wears a suit to school?”

A young man in a fancy grey suit and dark tie was walking away from the building. “That’s Dahl?”

“That’s the guy,” Mahdi confirmed.

Everything about this stupid kid he didn’t even know made Isak’s blood boil. His cocky ‘I’m better than you’ smirk. His obnoxious strut. He took something away from Isak today. Fuck this guy. Fuck him.

Isak marched over to him, his face tingling from the remaining adrenaline.

“Dude,” Jonas called after him.

 Isak ignored him and cut in front of Julian, forcing him to stop.

“Can I help you?”

_Snobby prick_

“My name’s Isak Valtersen.”

“Okay.” Julian laughed like Isak was weirdo.

_You cunt_

“Guess you wouldn’t remember all the people you fuck over.”

“Did I miss something? I don’t know you, kid. Unless we hooked up or something. Are you mad I didn’t call you? I mean, sorry, but this isn’t middle school.”

Isak tightened both hands into a fist. His jaw locked. “Get over yourself,” he spat.

Isak might not have shoved him if he hadn’t laughed in his face. The asshole’s smug expression had Isak seeing red. It wasn’t his fault, really. Julian ended up on the floor from the force of Isak’s push.

“What the fuck, asshole?!”

“Fuck you!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Jonas and Mahdi ran over and stood between them.

_Fuck this. Fuck everything_

“What’s his problem?” Julian demanded. He pulled himself to his feet. Such a shame; he belonged on the ground.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!”

Isak lunged for him again. This time, Jonas grabbed his arms to hold him still. It made his skin crawl. Mahdi held Julian by his sport jacket.

“You’re a little freak, you know that?”

Jonas wrapped his arms tightly around Isak before he could leap forward. Isak struggled to get out of the hold while Julian glowered at him.

“What are you gonna do, huh?”

Mahdi let go of his jacket, leaving a crease where his hand had been. “Get out of here, man,” he said, giving him a small push forward.

“Whatever.”    

They watched him disappear down the street. “Get off me,” Isak hissed.

Jonas stepped back. “We’re not going stand back and watch you get beaten up.”

“I can take him.”

“But you shouldn’t. Trust me, you don’t want to start shit here.”

“You don’t know what I want.” Isak could barely hear over his thumping heart. He didn’t need this. It was a no good, awful, shit fuck of a day.

“What’d he do to you?” asked Mahdi

Doesn’t matter,” Isak muttered. He walked away, ignoring their calls.

_Fuck this. Fuck eveything_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Title comes from a Dustin O'Halloran song. Chapter title comes from Patrick Wolf's 'Together'  
> If you've read Evoke, you'll notice most of this is the same few early scenes with slight alterations, but I promise you'll see more new stuff as the story goes on. Hope you liked it anyway :)  
> Once again, this is going to be deeply personal. Stick around ;) 
> 
> I wanted to get this out /before/ my birthday, but welp here we are! 
> 
> P.s. Nicotinò
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr at [thegirlnooneknows5](http://thegirlnooneknows5.tumblr.com/)  
> My ask is always open and I am always lonely <3


	2. Every mournful breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to see what Isak and Even’s apartment looks like? Check it out here: [APARTMENT](http://thegirlnooneknows5.tumblr.com/post/179512263323/evaks-evokewe-move-lightly-apartment-instead-of/)
> 
> -Homophobic thoughts/language-

 

Suffice to say, Isak was an asshole.

Freaking out in front of all the gossiping morons on campus. Attacking a stranger. Blowing off his friends. They were only trying to help and Isak – He shit all over them.

Freak out. Lash out. Get out. Another ordinary day in the life of a coward.  

There was only so much of ‘ _weak, pathetic’,_ he could take.

Giving up on sleep yet again, Isak wandered into the kitchen. The noise in his head got louder as he walked. Bounced off the walls of his mind.  

_Pathetic. Pussy. Weak. Faggot. Grow up._

Isak tugged at his hair until his scalp burned. _Shut up shut up shut up._ The thoughts overlapped in his head, fighting a war he wanted no part in. He was too tired. Too wrecked. _I surrender,_ he tried to say, but it made no difference. _Leave me alone!_  

“Argh.”

He pressed his hands into the cool countertop. Fingers turned white from the pressure. It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. Did he have to tear his head open? He just wanted it to stop. Why wouldn’t it–  

“Can’t sleep?”

Isak jumped and whipped around to see Even with messy hair and sleepy eyes.

“Sorry,” Even laughed. So soft. Isak leaned back on the counter while Even got a glass of water. He listened closely and heard… nothing. His head was quiet.

“Are you…are you okay?” Even asked. Was there ever a truthful answer to that question? “Was that a stupid question?” 

“No,” Isak laughed. He faced Even, taking in his kind expression. “I never sleep well.”

Even gulped down the last of his water and got rid of the glass. “I know.”

Isak made a stupid crack about Even being a stalker like in every single lame slasher movie because he was hilarious. Even seemed to think it was funny enough. Seemed John Mulaney could learn a thing or two from Isak Valtersen. 

“Do I look like a creepy stalker?”

Isak shrugged. “The hot guy always ends up being the bad guy. You can pick him from the start. So predictable.”

 “You need to watch better movies.” Even trudged over to the couch and plopped down. Isak followed him the instant he started moving. Had he always been this pathetic?    

“Like what?”

“Like _Dead Poets Society_. It’s genius.”

It sounded pretentious. Isak told him as much, scrunching his nose. 

“It kind of is,” Even admitted with a smile. “But it’s brilliant. Loads of the cinematic greats are a _little_ pretentious.” 

“Why would anyone want to watch shit like that?” Isak laughed. Explosions were a much better escape than a bunch of people crying on screen for two hours. No one would ever convince Isak otherwise.   

Even bumped their shoulders and waggled his brows like the dork he was. “Because everything else is _predictable_.”

He didn’t need to know how cute Isak thought that was. Isak rolled his eyes just in case he caught on. “How’d you know sleep hates me?”

“Cause it hates me too,” Even said. “I hear you sometimes.”

“Sorry.”

Even relaxed against the couch. “It’s nice knowing I’m not the only one, I guess.”

“Mm.”

Isak never liked silence. Not since he was a child. He was afraid of it then. Silence was lonely. Devoid of life. As he got older and life got crueller, he began to crave silence. Still lonely, but at least the world was still when it was quiet. Nothing could hurt him in the quiet. The noise in his head wouldn’t let him have silence these days. Sitting next to Even, shoulders touching, everything was quiet. _This_ silence was peaceful. 

 “How long are you supposed to keep a holey sock?” Even’s voice was soft, as if he was afraid of breaking their little atmosphere on the couch. “How long until you have to toss it?”   

Isak lifted his foot – clad in his best holey sock – off the ground. “However long you want.”

“Even if it’s falling apart?” 

Why was it so important? “It’s still my favourite sock.” Even smiled at him. “What?”

“I like you.” Isak groaned. _Loser._  Even bumped his shoulder. He was weird. “I do! You always say things I don’t expect to come out of your mouth.”

Isak felt his cheeks warm, to his chagrin. “Yeah, well you’re the one always writing little stories and poems and stuff.”

“They’re not all mine.”

“So why are you surprised people say things?”

Even smirked. “Things.”

“Things!” Isak pushed his shoulder. The way Even was looking at him had him squirming. He knew it, too, the asshole. “Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

Isak looked away from his annoying smile and his stupid sparkly eyes. “You know what you do, jackass.”

Even leaned on him. “Do I?” he teased.

Isak tried to push back. “Ugh! Piss off!”

“I’m getting a ‘piss off’?” Even placed a hand over his heart and faked a sniff. “Isak, I’m so honoured.”

“You’re annoying.”

“So you keep saying.”

Isak crossed his arms over his bent legs. “You’re lucky I don’t steal all your stuff and leave.”

“I’m living with a criminal,” Even said. “How exciting.”

“Watch your back.”

“Okay,” he laughed in that cute, light voice of his.

Isak stared at the hole in his sock for a while. The longer he looked at it, he realised the socks weren’t a match; one was a darker grey than the other. Did he always wear them like this? Did he lose the other socks? Maybe it just got lighter in the wash… if Isak washed enough for that to happen. Did Even notice? Was he complete disaster for wearing mismatching socks on a Friday morning, or was he overreacting?

“Mm…” Even swallowed the words before they came out, but it was clear he had something to say. He took a breath. “I don’t usually do that. The other night, when I – uh – I don’t usually…”

“Cry?” Isak guessed.

“It’s been a while.” 

What could he say to that?

Words weren’t much of a comfort, anyway. People could lie with words. Lies were the only language Isak spoke fluently. He’d learned from pappa. Any action always spoke louder, truer. Learned _that_ from mamma. With a fluttering heart, Isak rested his hand on Even’s.

Even leaned his head on Isak’s shoulder. Sent a warm feeling through his chest. “Who knew you were such a softie.”

“Me? Pft!”

 “You’re a cuddler.”

“If you fucking tell anyone–”

“You’ll steal all my stuff and leave?”

How anyone’s voice could be so soft…

“Yes.”

 

*********

**You have 2 missed calls from Jonas**

**You have a missed call from Mahdi**

**7 unread messages**

Isak locked his phone and dropped it onto his bed with a weary sigh. It pinged again. He rubbed his eyes. “Fuck.” Picked it up.

 

 

> **Eskild:** so the new manager is a dick
> 
> **Rumen:** yeah he’s a bit off
> 
> **Camille:** Enemies to Lovers au
> 
> **Eskild:** I may be a hoe but I’m not thst desperate
> 
> **Camille:** i mean he’s pretty cute
> 
> what do you thibk Linn?
> 
> **Linn:**
> 
> ****
> 
> **Isak:** gay icon
> 
> **Camille:** isaaaak
> 
> **Eskild:** kitten!
> 
> **Isak:** what
> 
> **Eskild:** Maybe you should go for him
> 
> **Camille:** i ship it
> 
> **Eskild:** He needs some good ass
> 
>   A good dicking
> 
>   A grown up sleepover
> 
>   What do the English say?
> 
>   A nice shag
> 
>   A taste of the sausage
> 
> **Isak:**
> 
> **Rumen:** lol where are these gifs coming from
> 
> **Linn:**
> 
> **Rumen:** dont be a heterophobe
> 
> **Isak:** I can’t believe you made us read that with our own eyes
> 
> **Linn:** with my own dark balls of sight
> 
> **Eskild:** omg he just yelled at me
> 
> **Isak:** get off ya phone at work
> 
> **Eskild:** Assertive is a good look on you
> 
>   Are you a secret dom daddy
> 
> **_You have left this conversation_ **

****

Another ping.

 

> **Pappa:** How are you? We should have coffee or something. Let me know xx

 

Isak put his phone on silent. _Enough of that for today._ He stared at the ceiling for a while. No good. Too reminiscent of his sleepless nights. He pulled himself up. Shuffled to the kitchen. One foot after the other. Left his phone behind. Made some coffee. Winced at the taste. One day he’d get it right.

The apartment was too silent. Too empty. Isak told himself he liked it this way. Almost believed it.

Maybe it’d be true if he couldn’t hear his own breathing.

He set the mug down. Tapped a mindless tune on the countertop. There had to be something he could do. Something, anything. He turned around, eyes searching for that something. The PlayStation! When had FIFA ever let him down? Everyone could count on mindless gaming. 

A few hours of beating the crap out Spain wasn’t quite enough to settle the uneasiness in his gut. His knee wouldn’t stop bouncing. Couldn’t figure out why. Was he waiting for something? Like the world to end? He wouldn’t mind. Anything to get his hands to stop shaking.

He made a sandwich. Couldn’t stomach it. It was shit anyway. Looked through their cupboards. Reorganised the cutlery draw. Stared at the wall some more.

Walked around the living room for a while. Watched the street from the window. Made up stories about the few people he saw passing. There was a woman hurrying to her car. Isak imagined she was on her way to stop the love of her life from getting on a plane to Mexico. She’d make it just in time. Another person stopped to pet a stray cat. Isak imagined they lived alone and went on walks everyday, hoping to make a friend or two. Cats were all they could get.  

It was fun for a while; imagining how other people lived their lives. Until it made him think. There were over seven billion people in the world and Isak would only ever meet less than an eighth of that. Way less. So many people who had no idea so many others even existed. Each and every one had a life of their own that was entirely different to his. There were billionaires who owned dozens of houses and did coke on their yachts and single teen mothers who struggled to afford to take care of their kids and charmers who were secret murderers and quiet kids who’d grow up to be popstars. Right at this very moment there were people all over the world having sex, and giving birth, and getting married, and dying, and losing their jobs, and saving lives and Isak was wandering around his apartment. Too afraid to go outside.

_Weak._

_Stop it._ That was enough of that.

He knelt by the TV and searched through the small DVD collection they had stashed in their mini cabinet. Mostly films Isak had never heard of. Probably pretentious. A couple _Fast and Furious_ movies _._ Some classic Disney flicks. And a yoga DVD. Why in the fuck did they have a yoga DVD? The whitest lady Isak had ever seen was smiling on the front, in a position human beings should not be able to get into.

The only time he’d ever tried yoga was when he came home to Eskild and Eva in his then-living room, stretching out on beach towels. They’d pushed the furniture away, turned on a few salt lamps and were grunting and groaning when Isak walked into the ridiculous sight. It went on snapchat immediately. “Yoga cleanses the mind and spirit!” Eskild had insisted when Isak made fun of them. He had no idea how they managed to force him into it.

Isak could do with some mind cleansing. He shrugged and popped the DVD into their shitty DVD player. _How bad can it be?_

It opened with some soft eastern music. “Empty the mind. Free the spirit. Heal the soul,” White yoga lady said in English. Her bleach blonde hair was tied back in a long braid. She was wearing big dangly earrings and a ring on each finger that would surely get in the way.

_What’s the point of–_

“Let me join you on a journey within,” White yoga lady said. Her voice was slow and soft, like she was trying extra hard to sound mystical. Isak snorted. “My name is Leaf Gardiner.”

Of course it was. _Is this chick for real?_

“I’ll be guiding you through poses and stretches from far eastern yoga to strengthen your muscles and connection between body and mind.”

 _Far eastern?_ She had to be making this shit up. Isak wondered if she was a qualified yoga teacher at all.

She guided the viewer through a salute to the sun sequence. Isak followed along as best he could. He hit his foot on the couch a few times, grateful no one was around to see him in this state. Their apartment wasn’t exactly built for a tall guy to fumble through yoga.

He was just getting the hang of it when she said, “My main goal is to heal the world through self love.”

 _Nope._ Isak switched off the DVD player and gave up. What kind of upbringing did this chick have to be so self obsessed and delusional? _Probably a trust fund kid who can afford to wake up in her 3000 thread count sheets and say ‘I don’t need things to be happy.’_ Isak didn’t know if he wanted to gag or laugh. He’d have to ask Even where that abomination DVD came from.

That left him with nothing to do yet again. He fell back on the floor. Stared at the ceiling. Searched for something he wasn’t sure of. Found nothing but silence. Lonely solitude.

He pushed himself up. Trudged down the hall. Stared at his door. He really, really didn’t want to go in. Even’s door was right beside him. This was wrong. Sneaky. Isak absolutely should not be doing it. He carefully pushed Even’s door open. Went in.

Everything was just as Isak remembered. Not that he’d expected any change in a few days. He walked around the room, taking in all the things stuck to Even’s walls and closet doors. There were quotes he now recognised from Nas. There was a _Star Wars_ poster. A little cartoon of a girl in a hijab. Several doodles and sketches Even had done himself. Some of them looked a lot like Isak. He was falling off a skateboard in one. He laughed at it. A couple poems scribbled on crinkled paper were tapped in between all this. The handwriting was different to the one on a few of the doodles.

He leaned in to read the poem closest to him. About a boy with a sailboat. A lonely boy who eventually found a friend. Isak smiled, unsure why something so simple made him a little sad. ‘C.A’ was scribbled at the bottom. He moved away from the poems and pictures.

Picked up the stuffed giraffe on Even’s desk. A little name tag was tied to its wrist with ribbon. It read ‘Even the giraffe.’ Isak laughed. He liked whoever gave this to him. His eyes landed on a little blue book that was under Even the giraffe. _Call me by your name._ Isak picked it up. All he knew about it was that some kid got way too close with a peach. Exactly the kind of weird, pretentious thing Even would be into. 

The back of his knees hit Even’s ginormous bed frame. Far too big for a room this size. He sat down, bouncing a bit. Much softer than his own. Maybe a bed that took up more than half a room wasn’t such a bad idea.

He rested Even the giraffe on his lap and flicked through the book. Notes written in pencil were scribbled on several pages. Isak stopped when he passed one. _‘Note: main character is fucking oblivious’_ , it said. He read the passage next to it to figure out what the hell that meant and laughed when he got it. Flipped to another page with a note. _‘Note to self: when writing a blockbuster, include as many weird masturbation scenes as possible.’_  Isak decided he did _not_ want to know what that was in reference to. He set the book on the bed, feeling strangely lighter.  

There was something about this room. Isak was safe here. Solitude was comfortable rather than lonely.

The sound of keys fiddling with the front door made Isak jump. Panic rose right through his body. He plopped Even the giraffe back on the desk and dashed into the hall just as the front door closed. _Shit_! Didn’t have time to put the book back.

Isak slipped into the bathroom the second he caught a glimpse of Even. Shut the door safely behind him. Didn’t want to look him in the eye. Tried to convince himself he hadn’t done anything creepy. Isak was not creep. Was he?

The door rattled behind him. Isak sprang away. “Oh,” Even said from behind it. “Isak?”

Isak swallowed the weird feeling in this throat. “Yeah?”

“Didn’t know you were home.”

“Uh, yup. I’m here.”

“Okay. Take your time.”

Isak squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m done.” Took a deep breath. Pulled the door open.

Even looked wrecked. The dark circles under his eyes had gotten worse. Hair was a mess. Lips chapped. Weariness and sadness swam in his eyes. He smiled at him anyway. Like he always did. How anyone could be so kind…

“Uh, so I can get in there?”

“Oh.” Isak moved out of the way, feeling like an idiot. “He’s all yours.” _He? Why_ did he say that?

At least it turned Even’s smile genuine. “Thanks.”

They stood calmly by the doorway, doing nothing but looking at each other. Isak didn’t feel right leaving. Not without asking. “Are you… are you…”

“No,” Even answered. “But it’s okay.”

It wasn’t. Isak wanted Even to feel wonderful. He shouldn’t be okay with not being okay. Never mind that was how Isak felt every second of every day. Even deserved to be more than okay. To receive the sunshine he brought to the world. Christ, he was beginning to sound like White yoga lady.

“If…” He dug his toe into the floor. “If you need to talk… o-or _not_ talk… you know…”

“Yeah. Thanks, Isak.”

Another awkward nod and Isak left him to it. Headed for his dreaded bedroom. He glanced back just in time to see Even’s expression drop before he shut the door.

Too much sadness for someone so…

There were too many words for a person like Even.

 

*********

“I’m sorry, sir, we just can’t accept expired coupons.”

“This is bullshit!” a man the crew referred to as Raincoat, on account of his musty smell and constant damp state, screeched. He tossed his beanie to the floor in disgust. “I have been a loyal customer here for twelve years!”

Everyone was painfully aware of that.

“Then, I’m sure you’re familiar with our store policies,” Isak said, trying his hardest to maintain his customer service smile when all he wanted to do was throw the entire bread rack at him. “Coupons are valid only until the specified date.”

“Can’t you extend it _one_ measly day?”

Isak squinted at the date to be sure. “It’s been six months.”

“That’s a stupid fucking policy,” Raincoat huffed. “’Scuse my language, young lady,” he said to an unimpressed Camille.

She moved away from the shelf she was stocking to say through gritted teeth, “As much as we’d love to give everyone discounts, the system won’t allow it.”

“You can’t just cheat it a little?”

“Unfortunately our computer system doesn’t work that way.”

“It’s programmed to do what it does,” Isak said lamely, pointing at his register.

Raincoat pulled at his damp, shaggy hair. “You guys are just tryna bleed all us poor folk dry with this business stuff.” He should talk to Jonas.

“Tell me about it, buddy,” new manager, Asmund said. Isak jumped at his sudden appearance. The guy moved like a cat. “I’m so sorry about all this, is there anything else we can do for you? A new coupon, perhaps?”

Isak was about to remind him they’d ended the whole deal six months ago when Raincoat loudly stomped over to the door. “Nope! I hope you know you just lost a… a… valid customer.” He nodded proudly and fell out the door. They all watched Raincoat climb to his feet, dust himself off and slog away. 

Camille covered her little snicker with a cough. Asmund was too close to miss Isak’s chuckle. “Isak,” he said in what Isak learned as his ‘you’re my bitch and you know it’ voice. “Now, now, was that the best way you could’ve handled that?”      

Isak shrugged. “Could’ve gone worse.” The mental image of jumping over the counter and kicking Raincoat in the shins was glorious. He was almost sorry he didn’t do it. 

“Way worse,” Camille agreed, a wicked glint in her eyes.

“Not in my store.” As if he hadn’t been there for all of three seconds. “You know we can’t afford to be losing any customers.”

“He’ll be back,” Isak said. Camille made an affirming sound. Raincoat always came back.

“Even so, we need to suck our customers’ tits.” _That_ was a mental image Isak wanted to burn. “Butter them up, then bend over backwards to help them. Make them think they’re getting exactly what they want, only better.” Asmund gave his shoulder an overenthusiastic pat. “And smile.”

He disappeared into the back just as three chatty girls Isak recognised from one of his classes walked in. They stopped at the door to whisper and giggle. Normally something Isak would’ve ignored… if they weren’t looking at him before every giggle.

A deep breath.

 _You can do this. Only three more hours._        

“Oh my gosh, did you see Julian’s new bruise,” one of the girls said, raising her voice just enough for Isak to hear. When their eyes met, Isak knew it’d been intentional.

_Three more hours._

“Yeah like, who just punches someone?” another mused even though that was _not_ what happened.  

_You can do this._

“Like, there’s no way people who can’t handle pressure, or whatever, are gonna make it. Everyone’s got problems, you know? Why be such a dick about it?”

Isak couldn’t do this.

 

 *********      

 

Hours and hours of staring at the ceiling was getting real old, real fast. Isak drifted in and out of a near-sleep state throughout the night. He was so fucking tired.

The door creaked open. Isak shot up in the dark. Reached for the lamp.

“Even,” he breathed. “Scared the shit out of me.”

Even didn’t say anything. Made no jokes or lame attempts to tease him. Instead, he climbed on the bed, straddling Isak. The hardness in his sweatpants pressed against Isak’s stomach. He gulped.

“What are you–”

Even pressed a finger to his lips. “Shh. Let me take care of you.”

He pushed him flat on his back and hovered his lips over his. He had Isak salivating already. _Fucking kiss me._ Even didn’t kiss him. His hands were all over him. Teasing him. Making him shiver and pant and want. His fingers brushed over Isak’s clothed chest, collarbones, nipples. They travelled down, down, down. _Finally_ , he reached down his boxers. 

Isak shivered. _“F-fuck_ ,” he whispered. Goose bumps rose on his skin. His eyes fluttered shut.

Even smiled against his lips and moved down painfully slowly. “Open your eyes, Isak. I want you to look at me.”   

He did.

Even’s gaze burned through his goddamn soul. Everything was on fire. Even kept his eyes on Isak’s while he pulled his boxers down, while he stroked him, while he slowly licked up his dick.

“Uhh!”

“Shh.”

He did it again. And again. And again. Licked up and over the tip, keeping one hand on the other side. And his gaze on him.

_What the fuck is happening_

Soft hair fell over his face. Isak’s fingers itched to thread themselves in those tufts of hair. Trembling hands reached for Even’s head. The touch grounded him. Tethered them together. It was his safety. And he was right. Even’s bed hair was softer than Mahdi’s pet duck. 

Fuck, why was he thinking about Mahdi when–

“Uh!”

Even must’ve been able to tell Isak’s mind wandered off. He sank his mouth around him, hollowing out his cheeks so his dick went in _just_ right. Isak wondered if he’d ever dabbled in porn.

“Stay with me,” Even said, voice husky. He looked wrecked. Isak didn’t even mind the line of spit that went from Even’s mouth to his–

“Ohh.”

He was good. He was so good and Isak didn’t know how long he could last. He felt like a teenager. 

Isak willed his body to stay focused. Resist the urge to let go. Not yet. It couldn’t be over yet. The thoughts got confused in his head; half urging him to relax, and half screaming _more, more, more!_

He tightened his grip in Even’s hair. Even gripped his thigh, turning the skin underneath white. The pain was weirdly nice. Electric pulses shot through his entire body. All his senses heightened. He felt like he was high. This was all he ever wanted to do for the rest of his stupid life.

It was over too soon, ending with a burst of electricity. Isak saw fireworks. Space and time. Even brought the entire fucking universe to the ground. Isak couldn’t stop shaking. There was music in his ears.        

The song was familiar to the point it was annoying. Like Isak heard it every day. The beat got louder and Even’s touch grew fainter. Isak was slipping. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t–

Isak’s eyes shot open. He was alone in his bed.

‘Like a G6’ played from his phone. Isak reached over for it, knocking a few things over as he felt around. He switched the hideous alarm off the second he got a hold of the phone.

Something wasn’t right.

He felt kind of… sticky.

 _No._ Isak lifted the covers and saw his own mess. He was 14 all over again, drooling over Antoine Greizmann. Only it wasn’t some lame footballer this time. It was Even. _Shit._ Isak rubbed his disgusting face.

_Why, why, why_

He took a little longer shuffling around the bathroom that morning. Monday was a fresh start. Isak couldn’t afford to miss another day of classes. It was time to face the music. He grimaced at the expression.

Even was leaning against the sink when Isak wandered into the kitchen. He greeted him with a, “Hmm,” mouth full of cereal. Isak nodded his acknowledgment and plonked down at their shitty table. The coolness of the seat woke him up. Even placed some corn flakes and a bowl in front of him.

“Milk?” Isak asked.

Even gulped down his mouthful. “Right.” He spun to the fridge and back again, retuning with milk and a spoon.

“Who doesn’t have milk with their cereal?” Isak teased.

“Me.”

“Why?”

“Mamma didn’t want me to spill it on the carpet when I was little.”

“Hard to believe _you_ were ever little.”

Even poked his tongue out. An image of that dream tongue on various parts of Isak’s anatomy flashed across his mind. It felt so real. So good. _Stop it._ Isak busied himself with pouring a large bowl of corn flakes, desperate to ignore Even sitting across from him.       

“Oh,” Even had to swallow another mouthful before he went on, “You were in my dream last night.”

Isak choked on his first mouthful. Images of Even on top of him while he writhed and sighed in pleasure beneath flooded his head. That was not allowed. Not Even.

He reached over to rub Isak’s back. “You alright?”

The touch was nice. Isak wished it would stop. What was happening to him? His gut flipped and his face darkened. _What’s wrong with me?_

Isak managed to get a hold of himself without choking to death. He greedily sucked in the air he’d missed. Even was still rubbing. _Fuck_ , it was nice. It was hard not to shudder.

“Isak.” He looked up. “Are you okay?” His smile was so sweet.

 _Cut it out._ Isak nodded, digging bits of corn flakes out of his teeth with his tongue. “Um. I should – I’ll – I’m not hungry.”

“You sure? You made a big bowl–”

Isak pushed said bowl away and stood. “Yup, mm hm. I’m – I’ll – I need to–” He raced off to his room, shutting himself inside before Even could say anything else.

_Christ, what’s wrong with me?_

*********

Isak was an adult. Something all mature grownups needed to remind themselves of.

This wasn’t high school. People were more mature. The gossip couldn’t be that bad. He shouldn’t care. He didn’t. Isak was going to walk in there like every other mundane day of his life. Everything was fine. 

It took only one funny look for Isak to realise he’d made a mistake. _Nope. Can’t do this. Can’t–_

“Hey, man.” Mahdi and Jonas appeared on either side of him. They were so close, their arms brushed against Isak’s as they walked.

Isak imagined them as his protection squad. Was kind of nice. He shook his head and sped up so he was a step in front of them. He didn’t need anyone to protect him. “Hey.”

“We’ve been trying to reach you,” Jonas said, keeping up.

Several missed calls and unread messages made Isak well aware of that. He swallowed down his guilt and shame, concealing it with a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve been sick.”

“Ah, sick.” Mahdi nodded slowly. They’d caught up to him again.

“So, feeling better?” asked Jonas.

“Mm hm.” This conversation wasn’t doing much good for his conscience. “Much better.”

“You’re not gonna fight anyone?” Mahdi joked.

Isak huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Piss off.”

“Just wanna know if we need to back you up.”

That did something pathetic to Isak’s heart. “Pity Magnus doesn’t go here,” he said. His friends stared at him, waiting for the explanation. Isak smirked. “He’d scare all the bad guys off with his stench.”

Jonas laughed. “Oh, dude,” he said. “That’s a stab in the heart.”

“I’m gonna tell him that one,” Mahdi laughed.  

“Tell him to use deodorant.”

“He says he does, it just wears off.”

“Magnus says a lot of things.”

His amusement was ripped right from under him when some guy he’d never seen gave Isak a look and said to his own friends, “That’s the weird one.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

Mahdi placed a hand on his chest. “Whoa.”

The guy shrugged, an amused grin on his face. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Good.”

“Shouldn’t listen to rumours, man,” Jonas said.

They continued down the hall, Isak focusing on getting his heart rate back to normal. The last thing he needed was another public panic attack. Jonas’s words to the random asshole made him think. _So, people_ were _talking about me. Fuck._

“Thought you weren’t gonna fight anyone.”

“What did you mean by rumours?”  

Jonas’s serious expression faltered. “Shit, Isak – it’s really nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Jonas. What are people saying about me?” He shared a concerned look with Mahdi and Isak was losing his patience. “Fuck, I’m not a kid, alright? I’ll be fine, just – I want to know. Please tell me.”

Jonas sighed. “Just that… you went crazy on Dahl for no reason.”

“And?”

He sighed again. “And that you’re weird. Look, it’s not that bad. By tomorrow, everyone will have moved on to the next big thing. Another cog in the machine. That’s how it all works.”   

“And if people give you shit, we’ll tell ‘em what’s what,” Mahdi added. Probably to dissuade Isak from going after anyone else. He was probably right about that.

Isak took a deep breath. “Only idiots listen to gossip, anyway.”

Jonas gave his back a few pats. “Right. Mindless chatter.”

He was right.

That guy and the girls from the grocery store were the only ones who seemed to care. By the end of the day, all the stares and whispering ceased. At least in his direction. It was on to the next thing.

Today was better. He’d managed to book a practise room for 16:00. Julian Dahl was no where in sight. No one was going to fuck with him today.

He jogged from his last class, excitement building in his gut. An afternoon of him and a piano in an empty room. Heaven on earth.

A soft guitar was coming from inside the room. Isak looked at the sheet on the wall. _Even Bech Næshiem._

He ignored the little thing his heart did when he read the name and knocked at the door. Pushed it open before Even responded. He was sitting in a chair towards the back of the little room.

“Hey.”  

“Hey.” They looked at each other, having not seen much of one another the last few days. “Oh! Right.” Even sprung up to leave.

Isak didn’t want him to go. Not now that he’d seen him. “You can stay if you want,” he said, closing the door. _Please stay._  

Even was quiet for a while, having a silent debate in his head. Isak sat at the piano to hide his eager face. The thought of being alone right now was–

“Okay,” Even said.

Isak smiled to himself and began to play his favourite piece. Riopy’s _I love you_ always relaxed him to a point of euphoria. Each note echoed off the wall. Encasing the two of them in the melody.

It felt like forever since he’d played. Five days was an eternity when Isak was aching for something. He quickly got lost in the piece. Played it so many times, he knew it as if it were his own.

With every movement across the keys, every sound, every rumble, all Isak’s tension melted away. Faded into insignificance. Isak felt at home.

A guitar strummed a harmony behind him. Isak fumbled on the keys, but quickly picked it up again. He’d just about forgotten Even was there. They played silently together, conversing with their instruments. An instrument could speak words no one was brave enough to say aloud. Tell stories that bled out of the strings. This was how Isak spoke to the world. Even was speaking with him.   

Why not impress him a little? Isak embellished, suddenly changing to Frédéric Chopin’s _Fantasie-Impromptu._  It was fast and frantic. Even couldn’t keep up. Isak smirked.

Even could show off, too. He quickly picked up the pace and plucked chords Isak hadn’t even heard. His fingers moved skilfully along his fret board, pulling every trick he knew.  

Isak laughed quietly. _Show off._  He played one last chord and finished abruptly on the keys. When he looked back, Even was smiling. He sped up his movements, plucking the strings with expertise that surprised Isak. He’d known he was good, but this was something else.  

“I get it,” Isak said. “You’re a genius.”  

Even ceased his movements, tapping a hand over the strings. He looked at Isak with wide eyes. “I? A genius? Why, Isak, I’m ever so flattered.”

“You’re a dork,” he laughed.

“You’re laughing.”

“I – ugh!” Isak scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest in indignation “I’m not laughing!” he insisted. He was _not_. The little smile on his face meant nothing.   

“Mm hm,” Even teased.

If that was the way things were going to be, Isak was going to ignore him. That’d teach him. He turned back to the piano with an extra loud huff and played a soft rendition of _Claire de Lune._ The first piece he’d ever learned. It brought him back to a simpler time. Sitting at his teacher’s grand piano, mamma waiting in the next room. She always gave him a big hug and called him her “little genius” after. Pappa would nod and say, “that’s awesome,” when they got home and mamma gushed about Miss Hayley’s praise. What Isak would give to have a single day back in that time…

A large hand squeezed Isak’s shoulder. _Get away._ Alarm bells sounded off in his head. Vision went white for half a second. Isak gasped loudly and ripped his shoulder away from the light grasp.

It was only Even. He would never hurt him. That didn’t calm Isak’s pounding heart. Even quickly backed away, his hands up in easy surrender. They stared at each other in shock.

 _Pussy. Weak._  

“I-” Even fumbled for words. He settled on, “I’m sorry.” Isak felt his entire body crumble. Sweet, kind Even. This wasn’t his fault. “Isak, I’m sorry,” Even said honestly. “I really am. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” Isak managed. His voice was small. Pathetic. Weak. He heard another voice from long ago.

 _‘You’re nothing but a weak little faggot_ ’

Even reached for him, but stopped just before making contact. Isak didn’t know what he’d do if anyone touched him right now. “Are you sure? Are you okay?”

This was Even. Even would never hurt him. Isak quickly gathered his things and rose to his feet. Time to go home. “I’m okay, Even,” he said more genuinely. 

Even nodded, though Isak knew he didn’t believe him. This was not the first time Even had seen him this way. The shame that evoked in Isak was immeasurable.

So much for relaxing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And 4 months later…  
> Is anyone still out there? I’m so sorry for the delay. Don’t want to bombard you with excuses, but I feel I owe you an explanation. This universe is a difficult head space to get into and my motivation for it became almost non-existent. I wanted to take a step back from this story so I could fall in love with it again. Once I did, my real life was struck with something sad and sudden that took up all my heart space. Nevertheless, this universe was constantly in my mind and I’m back at it.  
> I’m sorry to those I promised a sooner update to. The next chapter may take a little while as I need to focus on my Big Bang fic for March, but I’ll try not to leave it for 4 damn months. Hope you’ll bear with me 
> 
> On a lighter note, on January the 1st, one year ago, I posted my first ever Skam fic. Thank you all for your support throughout the year and to those who nominated some of my works for Evakteket’s Best of 2018. Check out the lists on tumblr, they’ve got some amazing fics! I’m so fortunate to have had such a positive experience in the fandom, thanks to you guys. Hugs from down under. 
> 
> P.S Druck came back  
> P.P.S Elu 
> 
> -Gifs used were made by animatedtext and zonoscope  
> -Chapter title comes from Every Mournful Breath by Slow Meadow  
> -The yoga sequence was inspired by one of Noel and Cody's That's Cringe videos  
> -Though the piano scene was in Evoke, this version is inspired by that iconic scene in Skam France. 
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr at [thegirlnooneknows5](http://thegirlnooneknows5.tumblr.com/)  
> My ask is always open and I am always lonely <3


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